


The need to hold still.

by Kaesteranya



Category: Persona 4
Genre: F/M, drabbles: miscellaneous, fanfiction: persona 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-21
Updated: 2011-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-27 16:42:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaesteranya/pseuds/Kaesteranya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kanji, Naoto and a bit of dress-up. If the clothes fit...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The need to hold still.

“Kanji-kun, is this really…”

 

“Hold still!”

 

To say that Naoto Shirogane was unaccustomed to Kanji Tatsumi being that forceful would be a horrible understatement. The girl detective fell silent immediately, flushed and embarrassed, peering at her companion with a mix of indignation and curiosity. Kanji, however, didn’t notice: it appeared as though Naoto’s discomfort was not nearly as important as that stitch he was peering at. Or was he actually looking at her waist?

 

Naoto suddenly wondered why she had agreed to the entire arrangement in the first place.

 

“I must confess,” she managed to mutter. “I find this rather uncomfortable.”

 

She couldn’t understand whatever Kanji said in return. He was talking from around the pins he had pinched between his lips, brows furrowed in concentration as he took measurements, folded cloth, unfolded it again, folded it in a different way. The only other time Naoto had ever seen Kanji that focused was when he was busy bashing a Shadow’s brains out with a folding chair in the TV world. Striking, really, how the boy seemed to be able to channel the same sort of precision he had with destruction into his sewing.

 

Still, Naoto couldn’t help but feel like a human doll at that moment, as she was surrounded by sheets of cloth, arms held out on either side of her, suffering through the occasional jerk or pull or prick directed at her person as Kanji worked to adjust the dress that he was making for her by checking how it fit. They were, it seemed, the natural consequences of a Kanji at Work.

 

“…and a little more… there!”

 

And she was a girl transformed, it seemed, the moment she looked up into the full-length mirror in front of her. What had been a formless, ridiculously floral something on her person moments ago was the beginnings of a dress prettier than she had ever seen on Rise, or Yukari, or any of the other girls in town.

 

Kanji came around from behind, grinning, meeting her eyes with his own through the mirror. He was nervous, though: that much was obvious, in the way he moved.

 

“So, uh. What do you think?”

 

It was suddenly hard, meeting that gaze.

 

“I think I would be honored if you were to make me another one, as well.”


End file.
